


Can't Touch This

by giraffeozilla



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: "Just Right" OCD, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autism Spectrum Disorder, Mental Health Issues, Misophonia, OCD, Obsessive Behavior, Obsessive-Compulsive, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Panic Attacks, Rage, Sound Sensitivity Syndrome, mental health, sensory issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giraffeozilla/pseuds/giraffeozilla
Summary: Sensory issues are things people don't usually like to talk about, so I'm showing some more unknown things that come with many disorders/syndromes.
Kudos: 3





	1. Left Is Bad

Staring down at my desk, I realize I’m leaning more to the left than I should be. The left was taking up all my body heat, my presence, my everything. And for how long? It could have been hours that the left side of the desk was greedily taking my touch while the right side got absolutely nothing. I shivered at the thought and grabbed the left armrest to scoot the chair over to the right side, hoping to make up for however long I was leaning the wrong way. 

Wait. Left. I vigorously grabbed the other armrest, rubbing and scratching in every place needed. Oddly enough, only the left side of my inner palm could do this job. Perhaps it was because it was the inner part of my hand. The inner sides of peoples’ arms, legs, and hands never got touched or exposed as much as the outer parts. The sun was always beaming down on it, the rain was always pelting down on it, people were always touching it.

I looked down at my arm and frowned, immediately wanting to wipe away the farmer’s tan. It didn’t usually bother me this much, but the more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable it made me. I rubbed the inner part of my arms on my chest to make the bad feeling go away, but this only made me want to rub more, harder, don’t stop.

I eventually did have to stop because my left elbow hit the left arm rest during my harsh rubbing. Of course I would make a dumb mistake like that. With only the correct fingers, I touch the right arm rest in the place my elbow bumped the other, but merely touching wasn’t the exact way the other was so violently bumped. Trying to exert the same force on the right, I accidentally slam into it with the wrong fingers.

In a panic, I rub the middle finger — the only finger that should be touched at the moment — into the chair trying to get rid of the feeling that felt like it was seeping into my very essence. As much as I wanted to keep my finger there, I still had to take care of my arms. So, reluctantly, I gave the armrest one last long rub and went back to my arms.


	2. Like Electricity

Usually when you scroll through a meme page you read the meme, snort, move onto the next post, repeat. Right now, I couldn't do that. It was simple, dumb, and the creator probably put little effort in it, but I just kept staring at it, giggling. The familiar electric feeling shot through my body and I immediately set my phone down, hoping to get rid of the trigger, but what was done was done. I probably would have groaned if I still weren’t giggling at the meme.

I should have expected it, really. I was already feeling light and giddy before, it was bound to happen soon. A shot of energy coursed through my body that badly needed to be released. My entire body tensed and I suppressed the urge to clench my fists; I knew from experience it didn’t help. Instead I flicked my wrist around and let it fulfill it’s choppy movements.

My head jerked to the side and vibrated like that for a couple of seconds as a strangled, high-pitched noise left my mouth. I forced myself into a fetal position, ignoring how my legs begged to be released of the pent up energy. I brought my arms to my chest after noticing they were starting to get too close to the edge of the chair. The more I closed in on myself, the more my body screamed for me to let the energy out but that would mean exposing it to the floor, where something could get it. I could already imagine the hand or mouth of something closing in on it.

I tensed the best I could, knowing that it wouldn’t be enough. In a final attempt to get rid of the feeling, I let my head jerk and twitch every which way. Letting go of my paranoia, I reluctantly let my arms and legs snap open twitching and tensing to release the buildup of tension. 

My hair lightly caressed the back of my head and it sent a shiver that went all the way down my spine, throughout my entire body. I jerkily moved my hand to get the hair off my neck, but it sent shivers down my wrist. I retracted my hand quickly and hissed. The bad feeling immediately came back to my neck and I leaned my head back to hopefully make my hair drift away from my skin.

At this point, I was practically laying down in the chair; feet up in the air, head tilted back, wrist jerking, and every part of my body tensing and fidgeting. It was fine though, because the feeling would go away soon and I would go back to scrolling through my phone, trying not to get too excited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this happens through extreme emotions like anger, excitement, or fear. basically anything that gives you adrenaline; i just chose a more light-hearted trigger


	3. Sounds Are Gross

The pop of someone’s tongue as they spoke. The smack of someone’s lips as they finished their lemonade. The slurp of someone’s spit as they sucked up spaghetti. The squish of someone’s disgusting fucking mouth as they bit down on a piece of shrimp. 

I felt my fists clench and teeth grit as rage coursed through my body. Didn’t they know what a bunch of slobs they all looked like while eating? How unnecessarily loud they were chewing? Couldn’t they have a family reunion without dinner? The imagery of slamming all of their faces in with a dumbbell didn’t help as much as it usually did.

Rage.

Escape.

Just chew louder and block their voices out. 

Disgust.

Pent up.

Cover your ears, ignore the sounds.

Anger.

Panic.

Don’t let the sounds repeat in your head. Think of something else. Don’t embarrass yourself.

Explode.

I stood up abruptly, my chair scraping loudly against the floor, “GOD, COULD YOU JUST SHUT UP AND STOP BEING SO FUCKING DISGUSTING?!”

I ignored everyone’s shocked and horrified faces and briskly stomped out of the house, making sure to slam the door extra hard to release the build up of tension in my body. The silence of the night was beautiful, no gross sounds at all. No gross sounds at all. No gross sounds. Gross Sounds.

Pop.

Smack.

Crunch.

I bared my teeth and tugged at my hair, “no, no, shut up, shut up, shut up, fucking shut up, please.”

I curled up into a ball on the cool grass, letting tears escape my eyes. Punching the ground and screaming into the night released some anger, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t still hear the sounds. I couldn’t hear them physically, but I knew the sounds were being made, just a couple feet away from me in the dining room of my Grandmother’s house. They were being made shamelessly, openly, loudly.

“Oh God, help me,” I muttered as I heard the front door open and an angry family member coming over to lecture me.

I curled in on myself even more to hide the tears, urging myself to calm down.

“Hey… are you, like, okay?”

“Uh,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just writing this put me on edge

**Author's Note:**

> btw does the title make sense????? its supposed to be like the song "cant touch this" ya know but maybe its one of those things that only makes sense in my head and it only refers to some sensory issues ill be talking about


End file.
